I noticed the camera lens had paused. The frozen shot was explicit enough to be in a cultural film. Sheikha Umm al-Muhibb was no longer in her place. She might have left the room a good while ago for all I’d noticed. Most of the other students were on their way out of the room, but Faten remained in her seat, astonished. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ I asked her.
She looked at me and then got up. We were the last to leave the room.
‘There’ll be no cucumbers, aubergines or bananas left in the market today,’ Faten chuckled.
I pretended I didn’t know what she was getting at.
‘How many hungry p*****s are going to suck on that fruit and veg without being satisfied . . .’ She added.
How did I not know what these girls got up to when I had Lula for a sister, I asked myself – but I didn’t want to
